1. Tuesday, April 27, 2004

    even though it ended well, i had a 

    horrible day at work. one of those days where you cant get anything done and right after one guy sees you getting off the phone after yelling at another guy suddenly he decides to pick a fucking fight with you too.

    swear to god i was holding my rolling stone in my hand about to go take my three oclock shit and the new guy starts talking trash and made me stop dead in my tracks. as a man you cant let certain things slide, particularilly from the new guy and he pouted the rest of the day after i fucking set him straight because nobody knows how to fucking say im sorry. im sorry tony i see youre having a rotten day i see you dont even have time to write. i see you dont even have a chance during your lunch to write. i see you dont have time to even talk nicely on the phone to people, so im going to leave you alone and answer your simple question after you ask it.

    the question today was, will chopper one be ready to fly after i take my dump.

    its a question i ask every day while i prepare for the three o’clock poopie club and maybe he’s sick of having to answer it, but you know what motherfucker, maybe im sick of having to fucking ask it. you know that time is coming and if you were smart you’d beat me to the punch and say settle in cowboy that bitch aint taking off till after 4:20 so maybe bring something more readable than that peice of trash they call modern journalism.

    it was 101 degrees in hollywood today. you shoulda seen the fucking team coverage.

    smartest guy i know regarding the war, a democrat, said that we should just fucking firebomb falluja and see if the kids grow up in love with nikes cuz this generation is obviously hopeless. his theory is we blew up japan and now theyre in love with nike and elvis so everything worked out. and if i was president i would let that leak out and see if those motherfuckers do like the new guy shoulda done which was not say this means war but say you know what, fuckit, i’ll be cool with you if you be cool with me.

    they dont teach that shit in school. they dont teach anything decent in school. they dont teach how to fix your car, they dont teach how to write a resume, they dont teach how to make a girl cum with your thigh and they dont teach how to negotiate nonviolently.

    they teach you how to sell out on every level.

    i dont capitalize or spell check or even reread what i write as a f u to all the now-dead witches i had to deal with in grade school high school and junior college. i can count the good english teachers i had on both my middle fingers. hows that for symbolism you motherfuckers. wrote my ass off all my life and all they could say was i grammared bad or i put a semi colon where i shoulda put a comma or some shit.

    meanwhile we had to sing the national anthem every moring which didnt rhyme, didnt make sense and had horrible meter. theyd a had a field day red penning francis scott that he probably woulda never written the thing if they had to go through what i had to go through. plus i was black. plus i was proud. plus i was listening to far too much ac/dc.

    bad day ended up into a great night where i had too much fun to write. had dinner with a gorgeous blonde girl, talked on the phone with my truest, with karisa, and with the hottest cuban girl this side of the mississip. so much fun that i didnt even call back karisa even though i wanted to and promised her that i would. but didnt cuz i suck.

    and now i have to finish my homework like a good boy so i can teach this bitch on thursday and i cant wait. and my reward is that if i can do it tonight i can sleep in santa barbara tomorrow, eat a burrito in iv on thursday and see the pixies on friday. and if im really luck i can makeout with that cuban chica on saturday.

    p.s. feds, if youre reading this like my man the unsomnambulist says you might be doing, stick around, this shit is about to get way better.

    sksmith goes to “interview” a strip club owner + desipio + tiffany is still celibate, or simply waiting for me?